


What They Should Do...

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 13 Inspired [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x10 Predictions, Brotherly Bonding, Confessions, Crack, Embarrassed Dean, Humor, Little Brother Sam, M/M, Near-death Experiences, Sam and Dean trapped in the Alternate World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 08:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: So, Dean and Sam are tied up in the Alternate World just waiting. But... how do they pass their time?This was inspired by both the 13x10 promo and a nap dream I had after taking an Advil. This is how I think the writers could use the 'Wayward Sisters' episode as a backdoor to other things as well...





	What They Should Do...

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have fun reading, because I had fun writing.

            Sam tries again to pull at the rope, its coarse fibers biting through his layers and into his skin. He could already feel his wrists starting to raw, but didn’t give up. Not like Dean, who he could barely see, slumped against the tree, head lolled off to the side in defeat.

            “If you don’t mind Sam,” he growls out, “I’d like to enjoy my last few moments without having to hear your Sasquatch grunts.”

            “Why don’t you shut up,” Sam hisses back, still struggling. Dean cranes his neck as far as he can and levels him with a glare.

            “Look,” Dean says, “we’re trapped in this weird _Land_ that _Time Forgot_ , with no food, no guns, and no way home. I’d rather we die now then later, alright?”

            “So you’re just gonna let yourself be eaten? That sounds awful.”

            “Not the way I expected to go,” Dean admits, “But seems pretty cool. I mean, who would believe we were killed by _dinosaurs_ , Sammy?”

            “No one because we wouldn’t be able to _tell_ anyone since _no one_ knows where we are!”

            Dean huffs, “Why you always gotta be such a downer.”

            Sam _thunks_ his head back into the tree and bites back a groaned curse. “Look,” Sam says, instead, “just… let me figure a way out of this before I die from an aneurysm, okay?”

            Sam keeps struggling, only managing to aggravate his skin to the point where he can feel tiny drops of blood oozing out of him. He doesn’t stop, however, furthering his search for a loose knot or something to help them out.

            “Sam… please,” Dean says, “It’s not… you think I haven’t tried?”

            Sam looks back at Dean, at where his hands are peaking out from behind the rope. Sam can see trails of Dean’s own blood, even in the weird blue glow, snaking their way down his hands.

            Sam feels his stomach give way, and he slumps against the rope, “…Crap.”

            “Yeah,” Dean nods, “A big whole _freakin_ ’ pile of it.”

            Sam doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he _can_ say. Any word he tries to think of, to make the situation seem not what it is, sits heavy on his tongue like a lie. He lets the silence linger, each rustle a warning of what’s to come.

            “You know,” Dean says, “I really wish it didn’t have to end like this.”

            “Me too, Dean,” Sam says, grimacing, “Me, too…”

            “And,” Dean continues, “If we _are_ going down… I’m glad we’re doing it together.”

            “There’s no one I’d rather die with,” Sam chuckles, “… _Again_.”

            “Maybe we should do it differently, then.”

            “Dean, I think getting eaten by giant reptiles is different enough –“

            “No, I mean,” Dean says, “Let’s… go out with nothing between us.”

            “You mean –“

            “No secrets,” Dean frowns, “Everything out in the open.”

            Sam huffs a small laugh. “You sure _you_ want to do that?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I mean,” Sam explains, “you aren’t the first to open up in _any_ situation.”

            “Hey!” Dean cries, “I can get pretty _damned_ emotional!”

            “Sure, Dean…”

            “And I did say between _us_ ,” Dean huffs, “So I’m not the only one who’s holding things in.”

            Sam frowns, considering Dean’s statement. While he doesn’t want to say Dean’s right… there’s nothing except his pride keeping him from actually voicing this opinion.

            “Fine,” Sam relents, “Do you… wanna start?”

            “I guess…” Dean tries his best to look Sam in the eyes, but Sam can only really see one make contact. “So,” he continues, “I know I said it before but… I really am sorry I couldn’t be there for you with Mom.”

            “Dean, it’s okay –“

            “And even when we were with Jack and Kaia I… I didn’t think we were actually gonna find anything,” he says, “I thought we’d just find her…” He doesn’t finish.

            “Thank you, Dean,” Sam says, “And with me and Mom… I feel the same about you and Cas. I didn’t know how to approach… to even _help_ you out of your funk. I was so wrapped up in Mom I didn’t think about how it must have felt for you to lose Cas.”

            “It’s okay, Sam,” Dean whispers, “Cas… wherever he is, he’s going to be fine without me… _us_. He’ll… he’ll find Jack and make sure he’s raised _right.”_

            Sam isn’t sure what he hears next. There’s a rustle from somewhere nearby, and it covers up what might have been a sniffle.

            “Anyway,” Dean chuckles, “I should also admit that… when you’re asleep… I cut your hair.”

            “You – _what?_ ”

            “Not a lot,” Dean admits, “Just enough that you wouldn’t notice it but still make a difference.”

            “Dean!” Sam shouts, “Is that the reason why I wake up to find hair on my pillow? I thought I was _losing_ my hair! Do you know how much money I spent trying to _prevent that_?”

            “Hey, I promise I won’t do it again,” Dean says, “…not like I’ll be able to since… y’know.”

            Sam sighs, and lets go of the anger. “Fine,” he says, “Apology accepted. And if we are… owning up to things… You know how you like to keep bottles of liquor in your room.”

            “Yeah, and?”

            “Well… I water them down.”

            “You bitch,” Dean barks, “I thought I had developed a _tolerance_. Do you know how _scared_ I was?”

            Sam manages a laugh. And after a while, Dean joins in, finding some levity in their situation. They don’t stop, letting the little things roll forward, avalanching in a final brotherly bonding moment.

            “I have a wig that I put on to act like you when I feel like venting.”

            “I replaced all the burgers in the fridge with those ‘fake meat’ patties… and you haven’t noticed the difference.”

            “Every time a girl asks me if you’re available I tell them you’re in a happily committed relationship with a _blow-up doll_.”

            “I’ve let stray dogs sleep in the backseat of the Impala when it rains so they stay dry.”

            “I… have a set of mix-tapes that aren’t classic rock. My favorite is the ABBA one.”

            “I haven’t jogged in over three years,” Sam wheezes, laughing, “I go out in the morning and just get a donut. I only _pretend_ to make you feel bad.”

            “You’re a horrible person Sammy,” Dean scoffs, “Truly awful.”

            “You wanted the truth!” Sam stops to breathe, “You know… I’m glad we’re doing this. At least we’ll die smiling.”

            “Yeah…” Dean says, looking down at the ground. His mood has taken a turn, having subdued itself. Sam cocks a brow at Dean’s behavior, but doesn’t have time to consider just what’s the matter with Dean (besides the obvious) when he hears a louder-than-should-be rustle from the bushes to their right.

            “Sam, I –“

            “Shh, not now, Dean,” Sam hushes him, “I hear something.”

            “No, I… I really need to say this,” Dean continues.

            “Seriously, Dean, this is _not_ the time!”

            There’s more rustling, and Sam can hear twigs snapping as whatever it is approaches closer and closer to them. Sam’s muscles are taut, his body thrumming with adrenaline as he tries in vain to pull his body free one last time.

            “Sam, I –“

            “Dean – !”

            “I like guys!”

            “There you are!”

            Sam blinks, staring first at Claire and her friend, who stand at the edge of the clearing, blades in hand, then at Dean.

            “What?”

            “Patience and I have been looking everywhere for you!” Claire continues, walking towards them, “This place is creepier than anything _I_ could ever think up. We need to get you two out of here –“

            “No, hold on,” Sam stops them, craning his neck to get a better look at his brother, “Dean, what did you just say?”

            “Uh – Sam, is this really the time?” Dean mumbles out, a slight blush peeking out from behind his collar, “We could get eaten at any second!”

            “No, no we have time – did you say you _like guys_?”

            Now Claire and her friend – Patience – turn to Dean.

            “Dean said what now?” Claire asks, interest in this topic evident by her smirk and raised brow.

            “I didn’t say that!”

            “Then what did you say?”

            “I said I…” he mumbles now, incoherent.

            “You said what?”

            “I said I liked… _guises_.”

            “Guises?”

            “As in _disguises,_ ” Dean explains, “You know… like dressing up?”

            “Shocker,” Claire comments, walking towards him, “I doubt that’s what you said but, like, that doesn’t surprise anyone either, Dean.” She uses her blade to cut through the rope and free him. Patience does the same with Sam.

            “Whatever,” Dean scoffs, rubbing at his wrists, “Let’s just… do you have back-up?”

            “Jody and Donna are out here as well, we’re supposed to rendezvous back at the portal in the next half-hour.”

            “There’s another portal?” Sam asks, walking up to them.

            “Yeah,” Patience says, “Alex and Kaia are on the other side, waiting for us. They’re gonna try and close it after we come back.”

            “Well then what are we waiting for,” Dean claps both Sam and Claire on the back, “Let’s go.”

            “Dean –“

            “We’re not dying anymore, Sammy,” Dean stops him, frowning, pleading, “What happened between two trees in an alternate universe _stays there.”_

            Sam wants to fight him. But he knows when to fight his battles. And his brother’s sexuality is something he can put on the back burner until they’re back in their home universe and not stuck in Spielberg’s sandbox.

            “Lead the way,” he says to Claire.

            They trek out of the clearing, and back into danger.

* * *

             They’re in the Impala, close to home, and tired. Sam figures this is the perfect time to strike.

            “So,” he starts, “When you said you liked _guises_ –“

            “Sam, can we not do this now –“

            “No, Dean, I just want to say,” Sam interrupts, remembering the script he created the second they pulled out of Jody’s drive way, “that it doesn’t matter to me – if you like to dress up, that is. You could be dressed in a t-shirt and jeans… or in a… _costume_ ; it wouldn’t change how I see you. You’d still be my brother, Dean.”

            Sam’s not watching Dean – direct eye contact would only frighten him back into his shell (or closet). But, if he were watching him, Sam would say that the relaxed posture, loose grip on the wheel, and smirk are signs that Dean understood his message.

            “…Thanks Sam,” he says, “Really.”

            “No problem.”

            And if Sam weren’t Dean’s brother, he’d leave it at that. But he can’t – which is why he follows his heartfelt message up with:

            “Hey Dean?”

            “…Yeah?”

            “So… if you like to _dress up_ …”

            “Sam, please… _drop it_ –”

            “If you were to pick really _anything_ to wear –“

            “I swear I will stop this car”

            “Would you choose a _trench coat_?”

            The Impala skids to a halt, swerving to the side of the road. Sam barely has time to steady himself when Dean is pointing towards the door, “Get out.”   

            “Dean, come on –“

            “I told you I’d stop the car,” Dean frowns, “Now get out.”

            “You’re really gonna make me walk home?”

            “No,” Dean smirks now, “You can _jog_.”

**Author's Note:**

> If the writers don't do it this way then I don't know how. Anyway, leave a kudos or comment if you like!


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